But it wasn’t just for herbalism, after all. There was a section of the garden full of flowers and benches, and areas where one could lie on the grass or have a picnic. We picked a bench that had a nice view of the flowers.
Dahlia pulled out a notebook and a pen from her bag. “Tell me about yourself.”
I eyed her hands, ready to write in the notebook. “What’s that for?”
“So I won’t forget, duh,” she rolled her eyes and tapped the notebook with the pen. “Tell me about yourself.”
“I don’t think you have to do that but — oh heavens, why not?” I searched deep in my mind for things I could reasonably say without being too personal, because not only I wasn’t ready for that sort of thing, I didn’t think it was appropriate too.
Exhaling, I started. “I’m Bea, daughter of a baron. My hometown is Baybluff. I have an older brother, Alec. He’s actually a fifth year. My favorite color is golden yellow. I love to read.”
Dahlia looked at me seriously. “What do you hate? So I can avoid it.”
Hate?That was such a strong word. In myreallife, I didn’t hate a lot of things. It was hard to make me angry. Easy to annoy me though. But hate was different. Admittedly, maybe I hadn’t experienced many things in my nineteen years of life that would make me hate something.
Except for one thing.
“I hate being truly alone,” I confessed, glancing down at my hands. “Don’t get me wrong, I like solitude. Reading by myself in a quiet place? I love that. But going home to someone by the end of the day? I love that even more. I just —”
Dahlia suddenly embraced me, cutting off my words. “Oh my stars, that’s so sad! I don’t share the same sentiments, but I can imagine how hard that can be. Surrounded by people but nobody’s truly yours?”
If she put it that way, then I, too, could also imagine the hardship.
But I wasn’t talking about my new life here.
I heard a distanced yelp from somewhere, and I didn’t hesitate to look, just in time to find Claude running away while Robin chased him. Notably, my knight wasn’t using his Triple Speed Unique, or else it would have been over in an instant.
Dahlia raised her eyebrows. “Of course you’d have stalkers.” We watched as Reuben followed them, and I took the chance.
“Can you help me escape from here? I just need an hour to myself. They’ll find me later, so don’t worry about that.”
She grinned. “Of course. Go sneak away and I’ll point them in a different direction when they ask.”
Finally, someone willing to do heinous crimes with me!
Making as little movement and noise as I could, I crept in the opposite direction where the twins were chasing away Claude. I eventually ended up at the doorway of a greenhouse, and I invited myself in to hide from stalkers and bodyguards.
The greenhouse was filled with various kinds of plants. Herbs, bushes, trees, weird-looking flowers were everywhere. I made my way around, reading the labels of each plant, before noticing an area that looked like a makeshift laboratory. Or, I guessed in this case, an alchemist’s lab?
Glass tubes, bottles, strange tools and equipment were everywhere. There was a cauldron cooking something bubbly, bookshelves filled with books and cabinets with preserved ingredients. I moved closer, but I didn’t dare touch anything; I was curious, but not curious enough that I might get killed by it.
Alchemy was such a fascinating thing. It reminded me of chemistry back in high school, only mixed with magic, doable in a way that you only had to follow a very specific set of instructions to not fuck it up. It was as close to science as one could get in this fantasy world. Reminded me of programming, too.
There was a book open on the table, with a recipe for an immolation potion. Right next to it was a notebook with modifications of the potion; the intention of the change was not only that the potion would set things on fire, but it would also explode, too.
So, a bomb, then. I was surprised it didn’t exist already. With warfare a common thing in this Kingdom, I thought weapons of mass destruction would already exist.
“Don’t touch anything!” A voice yelled from somewhere behind me, and by instinct, I lifted both of my arms up.
“Not touching anything,” I announced as I waited for the man to show himself.
A student with bright blue hair, shaved at the sides and longer on top, with the cutest pink eyes appeared before me. He wore the purple blazer uniform under a leather robe, and he wore thick gloves to protect his hands from his experiment. He watched me warily, walking to his table, before snapping both the book and notebook closed.
“I already read it,” I admitted, my arms still up in the air. “An exploding immolation potion, right?”
“How did —” He narrowed his eyes, assessing me. “What year are you in?”
“I’m a first year. Today’s my first day.” I brought my arms down. I didn’t feel the need to keep this a secret because far too many people already knew that about me.
